


A Collusion of Sins

by aoballads



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, M/M, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aoballads/pseuds/aoballads
Summary: A hero of the Joi Revolution - dead-fish eyes and silvery hair, the epitome of lazy.A demon born from nothing - V-shaped bangs and a sharp tongue, the author of the Shinsengumi's Kyokuchuu Hatto.Both men hold a past that they cannot let go. Both men still see the chains that bind them to the dead. But what is it that really binds them together?Is it the near-death experiences they've encountered together? The bickering at the bar on whether mayonnaise/adzuki beans was the better condiment? The trip to the dentist that they didn't want to give out on? Or the way they would give everything - even themselves - to make sure that whatever they cherish is protected?Both have made mistakes in the past and present. But as Hijikata's past causes him to pay a dear price, Gintoki is somehow involved - and reveals secrets of his own to the Demon Vice Commander.*Note: This story happens before the Shogun Assassination Arc. Various spoilers from previous arcs of Gintama are present.
Relationships: Hijikata Tamegorou & Hijikata Toshirou, Hijikata Toshirou/Okita Mitsuba, Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki, Kagura & Sakata Gintoki & Shimura Shinpachi, Okita Sougo/Sakata Gintoki, Sakata Gintoki/Shimura Tae
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Sometimes, Mayonnaise Can't Fix Everything

The quiet of the night was deafening. He shifted uneasily from side to side, brows furrowed in annoyance at his inability to fall asleep tonight. If he listened close enough, he could make out the sounds of little bugs and critters calling out in the dark; he thought he heard the Commander’s heavy footsteps from several corridors away once – probably heading out for a midnight toilet break.

Hijikata turned around once more, back now flat against the comfort of the futon. His eyes were looking straight at the ceiling, yet he saw nothing at all. He thought he felt his fingers start to twitch – no, that was a figment of his imagination. He didn’t act like that anymore. He stopped being the weak, naïve boy who swung his sword recklessly a long time ago.

Yet the events that transpired over the last few days made his insides twist with a sort of revolting realisation that maybe he never really stopped being that young boy. He had been terrified, so unbelievably terrified, of what might’ve happened had he not gotten there in time.

What if they all died because of him? What if Kondo-san’s chest was hit with the bullet instead of his arm? What if the remnants of the people who attacked him came here, to the Shinsengumi?

The questions had Hijikata’s teeth clenched, his brows tightly knit together, his fingernails digging painfully against the palm of his hand in a tight fist. So many things could have gone wrong – but they didn’t. Shouldn’t he be feeling relieved now?

The peace of the night felt so unusual. When was the last time Hijikata got some actual, proper sleep? Two days of endless worry made his head feel like it was on the verge of exploding, and now that it was finally – hopefully – over… why couldn’t he just rest?

He wanted to fall asleep so bad, yet it eluded him when he needed it the most. Unpleasant images, distant memories of the past started to fill his head, leaving a distinctly bitter taste on his tongue. He hadn’t thought about the past since Mitsuba...

The thought of Mitsuba made his insides hurt even more. The person that he cared for so much, for so long… already gone before he could ever tell her goodbye. He didn’t deserve her, yet she was always there for him anyway. It made him want to scream out loud, to cry, to swing his sword and cut the dark feelings inside his chest down.

‘There’s no point thinking about her.’ he whispered softly, his small voice a distinct punctuation against the silent night. ‘There’s no point thinking about all of this, Toshi. Just let it go.’

He knew the words would make no difference. Speaking them out loud didn’t change a single thing – each syllable was a link in the iron manacles that held his body down, invisible bonds that would never shatter no matter how hard he tried. Whatever happened over the last couple of days only made the weight of the shackles intensify, a punishment that wouldn’t let go despite the kind, forgiving words he tried to offer them.

_Leave me alone. Let me breathe. Let me live. Let me find hope again._

Hijikata had pled over so many years – yet he knew there was never going to be freedom. The iron that weighted his soul down was too familiar to let go, in a way. He lived, he breathed, he tried his best to be a Vice Commander that the Shinsengumi would be proud of… yet the simulation of a supposedly normal life was just that – an illusion. A façade that would never end.

He was well aware that the day his mask cracks, he would become the powerless young boy who was too sad yet too proud to admit he was broken. Now at least… now he could be part of something whole. He was Hijikata Toshiro, Vice Commander of the police organisation that Edo accepted.

His fingers started to tremble viciously, and Hijikata bit on his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood. The metallic tang of it sharpened his senses somewhat, and the pain brought his thoughts back into the present. He was in bed, trying to fall asleep after a long series of events. He was tired. He needed the rest. Kondo-san and everyone else were fine – albeit slightly hurt.

_You’ll never escape the past,_ a small, familiar voice whispered into his ear. _I’ll come back again, eventually._

Hijikata immediately sat up, the rush of adrenaline and fear making his entire arm shake violently. He clasped both his hands together, trying to steady them.

‘Don’t go back. Don’t go back. Don’t.’ he said, his own voice now filled with an unsteady plea. Was that his own blood he could make out, or was it someone else’s? _Brother? Kondo-san? Mitsuba? Who am I going to lose next?_

His heart was pounding hard, a thrumming earthquake that threatened to overwhelm his chest. He quickly got up and took his sword with him, a barely perceptible tremor now running throughout his entire body. He needed to get out of this silence, needed to distract himself with something. His usual thoughts in the dead of night were bad enough, but times like this… it worried him. Hijikata didn’t know what he would do if he were to succumb to the small voice that whispered to him.

The voice was from the past, an echo of a young Hijikata that hated and envied and despised all that surrounded him. It was spiteful, yet alluring. It filled Hijikata with a sharp yearning for blood, yet made him despise his weakness for not being able to deny its presence. The strongest link in the chains that held him down, the lock that formed without proper knowledge of how to undo itself.

He slid the door open easily, grateful for the cool air of the night that made goosebumps litter his skin. His right hand was still clutching his sheathed sword tightly, fingernails turned entirely white. With unsteady fingers, he quickly grabbed for his outerwear that lay in an undignified pile on the floor. The additional layer he put on did not make the trembling of his bones subside – a habitual gesture.

Hijikata looked back at his room, contemplated the existence of this unassuming space that had housed him all these years. Some books about fighting styles sat in a corner, the one at the top showered in a veneer of white dust. A small photo frame with the entirety of the Shinsengumi was propped up beside it. A small dresser that Kondo-san had gifted him a long time ago, insisting that Hijikata kept his clothes somewhere proper, instead of stacking them on the floor. The scent of his usual brand of smokes permeating the stiff flooring. A few boxes of yellow condiment bottles placed in the far corner of the room, so that the contents wouldn’t be exposed to sunlight. His futon, barely slept in yet somehow still welcoming, all the same. This was his home, right?

The voice in his head screamed, every note of betrayal seeping into it.

_YOU DON’T BELONG._

Hijikata wanted to scream back at it, but knew it to be a futile effort.

Having a room in the Shinsengumi housing quarters that was tucked in an unassuming corner was one of the benefits of being the Vice Commander – Hijikata could enter and exit as he pleased without having to alert any of the other nearby occupants. There was a small locked door by the garden that his room faced, tucked away behind a couple of overgrown bushes and weeds. Few people knew of its existence, and even fewer had access through. He thanked the Hijikata from the past who demanded Kondo-san give him a spare key in case he needed it.

Hijikata checked the pocket of his outerwear once before he started for the locked door. A tentative shake with perceptibly quivering fingers told him that there were a couple of cigarettes left in the box before he completely ran out. The past few days really took a toll on his tobacco supply, he mused darkly. The sleepless nights were slightly more bearable as the nicotine flowed through his veins, a small comfort that could not alleviate his terror completely.

He slid the door to his room slowly, making sure to not make a sound. Kondo-san’s room was just three doors over, and Yamazaki was usually a light sleeper – the slightly sweet scent of red bean paste was noticeable as Hijikata tiptoed past his room, listening intently for any sign of activity besides his own. The small voice in his head was quiet now, deterred by Hijikata’s concentration on his surroundings.

A tiny click, and the small door by the garden opened easily. Hijikata was worried that it might creak loudly and alert someone, seeing as it hadn’t been opened in years. Somebody – maybe Kondo-san – had kept the hinges greased, and it swung open with barely a sound.

The cool air of the open street behind the Shinsengumi quarters made Hijikata’s spirit instantly lift. It was a chilly night, sure, but the cold distracted him from the tiredness that lingered inside. He didn’t know where the hell he was going, or what he was going to do until he decided to return to his quarters – but this definitely felt better than having to lie down in his futon, occupied with nothing but a sense of guilt and a screaming voice that told him he didn’t matter.

‘Everything is going to be fine.’ Hijikata whispered, his breath fogging slightly in front of his lips. There was the acrid taste of blood lingering on his tongue, the sting of the cold air against his lips where it had broken from the biting.

Again, his muttered words meant nothing. Whether the voice in his head was real or not… it was there. It was always there. The invisible manacles clutching at his limbs tightened, phantom hands grasping at his trembling arms and twitching fingers. Hijikata inhaled deeply, letting the scent of his own blood distract him from the force of the chains tugging. It worked, somewhat – Hijikata continued to walk, the cadence of his pace gradually increasing into a brisk walk.

The streets of Edo were relatively quiet – it was probably sometime after midnight, currently. Hijikata just kept walking, letting his feet bring him anywhere. He might end up near town, or find himself at the edge of the dense forest across town – he didn’t quite care. He just needed to keep going, focus on getting one foot in front of the other, maintain the peaceful blank in his head as he went.

He didn’t realise that he was in a more densely populated part of Edo until he heard the familiar pings of pachinko machines, caught sight of flashing neon lights covering billboards and entrances alike. Hijikata finally focused, his mind piecing together his surroundings. Ah, so his feet brought him here – the usual route that Hijikata traversed whenever it got too busy at the office, where he would excuse himself for a little while to go replenish his smokes. The almost friendly glow of the cigarette vending machine he could make out from a short distance away.

As usual, Kabukicho was busy on a very late Thursday night (or early morning, depending on how you see it). Hijikata disregarded the lingering drunks that he noticed in the narrow alleys, ignored the calls of cabaret girls and hosts alike as he weaved through the pockets of people in Kabukicho. The folk that usually backed away from him in his black Shinsengumi uniform approached him casually now, their arms spread open in a welcoming gesture. _Come visit our cabaret club, young man. Rest and relax with our selection of beautiful girls. You look lonely, let them comfort you. Our host club was rated number one last month in the Kabukicho polls; you won’t regret our premium prices! Hey handsome, want to escape your worries tonight? Our bar has some great whiskey for you to drink the night away._

Hijikata ignored all of the people that approached him. At least their calls and voices distracted him from the dread that ate him on the inside. At least it was better than having to lie in bed, thinking about a past that never seemed to let go.

He heard people muttering in slight panic around him as the patter of rain started. Colourful circles popped open along the streets of Kabukicho, a cacophony of vibrant colours and umbrellas snapping open, protesting against the sudden change in weather; but the calls for customers never stopped, the vein of promotional slogans shifting towards providing an alluring shelter instead. _Do you have an umbrella, sir? Let our girls here escort you to a hotel nearby, a complimentary service from our side._

Hijikata looked up, let the few raindrops hit his cheeks as he breathed in the scent of rain, let the rapidly lowering temperature of the air ruffle his hair, caress the back of his neck. A sense that everything was going to turn out fine tonight crossed his chest, comforting against the cold that seeped through his thin clothing.

This was the Edo that he strove to protect. A humdrum of life, an intersection of people who sought to live in peace. The crying drunks and demure prostitutes were part of it. The troublesome Shinsengumi were part of it. The Hijikata Toshiro that lived here was part of it. The freezing droplets of rain that glistened on his skin was proof of that – he was here _now_. That was all that mattered, right?

Someone was calling his name. A familiar voice, not exactly friendly.

‘Hijikata-kun? What’s a policeman like you doing here? Is this an undercover operation?’

Hijikata frowned, trying to place a name to the figure that stood ahead – he couldn’t quite make out who is was from where he stood, the light behind the person obscuring most of their features.

‘Who’s there?’

‘Stop standing there looking like a drenched idiot. Come in before you catch a cold.’ the person said, beckoning at him. Hijikata was made aware of the dampness that weighed his clothing down, a stark chill biting at his skin now. How long was he standing in the rain? He couldn’t be sure.

Hijikata hesitated for a couple of seconds… and slowly walked towards the figure. The person turned to the right and entered the building, leaving the door open for Hijikata to follow. Hijikata quickened his pace, noticing the discomfort of his clothes sticking against the icy surface of his skin.

He looked up at the brightly lit sign displayed above the door and let out a sigh, recognising the name of the bar. An unprecedented coincidence. How did he end up here, out of all places? He must’ve walked quite a distance from the Shinsengumi quarters to end up in this part of Kabukicho.

‘Welcome, Hijikata-san. Didn’t expect to see you here.’ the voice of an older woman called to him as Hijikata slid the doors close behind him. ‘Come, have a seat. I’ll get something warm for you.’

‘…Thanks for having me.’ Hijikata muttered in response.


	2. Those Who Like Being Indoors When It's Raining Have Never Been Trapped Inside With A Ghost Before

Gintoki felt… empty. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time – not since… no, it was better not to think about it. There was a sort of restless agony that pervaded his body, wanting to envelop his ribs, spread all over his skin like some horrible corruption.

His head was full of nothing, yet his body demanded something – some sort of action, some sort of release. His fingers drummed endlessly on the edge of his desk, an irregular cadence that told any listener of his irritation. The kids weren’t around today either, so there was nothing much to distract him from the buzzing that flooded his veins. Kagura was off somewhere with her father, who was back in Edo for a little while; Shinpachi was dragged away by his sister since the afternoon, Otae muttering something about rigging a gorilla’s enclosure with land mines before it got too late.

He sighed softly, his breath making the pages of a book on the table before him flutter and rattle. A page turned. Gintoki frowned, his eyes catching on a few familiar lines of ink. The cicadas in the night were endlessly chirping in the background, a half-welcome interruption to Gintoki’s thoughts – yet the words contained in the book seemed to draw him in, occupy his mind with a familiar rhythm, a gentle voice.

‘Tsk.’ he clicked his tongue, feeling fully annoyed with himself and everything else now. ‘Thought I told myself not to think about it.’ He glared at the book, its tattered pages familiar yet foreign from a distance away. There was the scent of something sweet stuck to it, and Gintoki often likened it to when you drop ice cream on your trousers while sitting on a bench at the amusement park – it never really washes off by the time you squeeze into the nearest toilet, the slight cloy of cream and vanilla forever clinging to the fabric. This damned green book made Gintoki feel like screaming whenever he took it out and put it on display – the scent of incoming rain wasn’t helping at all either. It made his head ache slightly, and his crawled with a nagging itch as the humidity pressed against him incessantly.

He took his feet off the desk and swivelled around in his chair, eyes now roving back and forth as he observed whatever was outside the window. The outside word. The world that he never really understood, never really imagined himself belonging… like a tarpaulin in the wind, a ragged flag of resistance, a pitiful remnant of clothing that someone forgot about – Gintoki was painfully aware of his existence in this city that he wasn’t quite sure he fit into. He liked Edo, and he had been living here all along, sure, but there was never truly anything that made him feel _tied_ to this place – well, not until Shinpachi and Kagura came into the mix. They made this dreary existence of his feel a little brighter, a little more grounded in the Edo that he’s residing in.

Gintoki couldn’t help the stupid smile that tugged at his lips at the thought of the Odd Jobs. ‘Better to think about this than something else.’ he mumbled out loud, determinedly trying _not_ to remind himself of the existence of the book behind him. He thought of when they had their first adventure together, the time when they had to substitute as hosts in the club. Kagura’s silly laugh, the shine on Shinpachi’s round glasses… thinking of those moments made his current mood lift a little. Maybe tonight was going to be slightly more bearable, after all.

_Slightly. Only slightly,_ his inner voice chided.

He wished he had some alcohol in the fridge right about now. The humidity that pressed against his limbs was horrible, his past was horrible, his current state of mind was even worse… he needed some other distraction, something more apparent. The itch, the restlessness underneath his skin started to act up again, the prospect of heavy rain making his stomach clench unpleasantly.

Getting dead drunk seemed like a good idea, but he had forgotten to pick up a few cans yesterday. The TV station reported that the entire week was going to experience a dry spell – evidently someone at the weather station wasn’t paying attention to the charts properly. He might just write an angrily worded letter to the station tomorrow, once the humidity lets up slightly. Wait, maybe he should direct it to Ketsuno Ana’s familiars…

He thought he heard the slow patter of a drizzle start. His eyes couldn’t catch any raindrops yet, Gintoki’s gaze still focused on the dark scenery beyond the window. It didn’t seem worthwhile to run to the convenience store now, considering he might have to come home wet and more annoyed than he already was.

Gintoki hissed out loud, stomping his feet on the ground displeasure. ‘Aaaaaaaargh.’ he whined. ‘If only it wouldn’t rain forever… I would feel so much better. Damn it.’ He turned around, picked up the book that held a lingering sweetness, contemplated throwing it out the window. It would be so easy.

The weight of the book was so familiar to him – not just that, even. More than familiar. The way the spine fit into the palm of his hand, the feel of the musty pages brushing against his fingers, the gentle voice that accompanied the words contained in its pages whenever he mustered the courage to read it… on an overcast day like this, all these sensations and emotions were amplified by a thousand, million, billion times. The restlessness in Gintoki’s body started to make itself known again, his bones crying out for _something_.

Overwhelming. Unbearable. Relentless. Makes his fingers tremble. This book made Gintoki think of a dozen things he’d rather avoid.

Without thinking, he stuffed the book back into its usual place, cursing himself at the action. It bent slightly into his curves, a pressure against his abdomen that was consistently present over the years. It might’ve saved his life once or twice – heck, it saved Zura’s life at least once. Gintoki glanced moodily out the window once more. He had thought about throwing the damn book away – out this very window – too many times. At least once a month, probably.

Always on a rainy day like this, when it threatened to pour so hard it would become difficult to discern between the noise in his head and the relentless patter of raindrops on the roof. Was he imagining his ears ringing a little now?

Each time, he was convinced that he would do it. He could imagine how it happens. He would throw it out the window and watch silently as it soaked in the rain, the words contained within softening and eventually forming into nothing but stains of ink. Someone would accidentally step on it and tear the wet pages apart as they kicked it away, cursing the stranger who littered on the street. The torn bits of paper from the book would disintegrate into an unrecognisable puddle in the rainwater, the remainder of the green cover chewed into nothingness by some stray dog passing by.

Being able to see all of this happen in his mind’s eye made letting go even more painful. Both a curse and a blessing. Gintoki would regret throwing it away, definitely – but he knew he’d likely be happier to let the book die with whatever memories it held with it. All it took was some courage…

And Gintoki knew he was the world’s biggest coward when the clouds threatened heavy rain.

He could smell it now – the familiar fresh, wet tinge of rain coming down in earnest. He curled his toes in his boots, furrowed his brows together. His mood soured as the _plop plop plop_ of rain started, the round beads of water hitting the roof in an untimely rhythm. He discarded the train of thought, tried to ignore his cowardice, choosing instead to focus on one spot outside the window. His eyes were trained on a steady stream of rainwater trickling down the corner of the Odd Jobs’ rooftop.

He tried to imagine himself in the same manner, his emotions draining out of him like water out a tap’s spout, splashing right onto the ground below. The press of the book against his body amplified – the normally almost-weightless book became heavier.

Just as Gintoki was contemplating if he should pull it out again, there was a loud voice coming from downstairs. He sighed in displeasure, fingers nudging idly at the cover of the book under some fabric.

‘We’re closed now, sorry!’ he yelled across the room, letting the annoyance in his voice show.

‘Get down here and give us a hand, Gintoki! If not Tama-chan and I will be clearing up till dawn.’ Otose-san’s voice called up again. ‘You’ll get something out of it, don’t worry. Now come down and help out.’

Gintoki sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. He didn’t let the small smile creep into his features. Part of him started to hope… maybe on today’s rainy night, he would be able to forget. He made a mental note to thank the old lady once they finished closing up.

He quickly changed clothes and headed downstairs, slightly annoyed that his hair was now a little wet from the rain that was getting heavier by the minute. He turned around once he was in the yellow-illuminated bar and started to slide the doors close – but caught a figure standing in the middle of the street, face upturned and unmoving.

_Weirdos are everywhere in Kabukicho,_ Gintoki mused. But the figure standing in the rain looked awfully familiar – there was something about their hair, and the sword scabbard that was fastened at their side. Besides for Gintoki… there wasn’t anyone who held a sword – or even a pseudo wooden one – around these parts.

Gintoki walked out again, stopping just short of where the rain wouldn’t manage to get on him. He called out towards the figure.

‘Hey, you there. Heyyyyy.’ he said loudly, gesturing. Ignored Otose-san’s questioning from behind him. He thought he could sort of make out who the person was, now – the light from inside of the bar helped, somewhat. ‘Is that our dear Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi I see? Hello? Hijikata-kun?’

He didn’t get any response from the still figure whose eyes were still glued to the sky. The rain must be stinging his eyes – what was he doing?

‘Hijikata-kun? What’s a policeman like you doing here? Is this an undercover operation?’ Gintoki called again, unwilling to step out into the rain. The scent already irritated him enough – having to get drenched was not going to improve his mood at all.

Gintoki looked questioningly at Hijikata as the Vice Commander finally looked down, a bewildered expression plain on his face.

‘Who’s there?’ he asked, a frown appearing between his brows now.

‘Stop standing there looking like a drenched idiot. Come in before you catch a cold.’ Gintoki said, feeling slightly disgruntled. He beckoned at the policeman to come into the bar, the chill of the outdoor air getting to him now.

‘Who are you talking to?’ Otose-san asked him, her hands deftly stacking drinking cups with practiced ease.

‘A lost policeman, it seems.’ Gintoki said simply. Noticing Otose-san’s quizzical look, he added, ‘Found a stray Hijikata-kun outside and invited him in. He’s a little drenched.’ The old woman nodded and swept dirty cups away with surprising speed – a small bottle of sake and drinking cup was now in her hands, and she placed it gently on the polished countertop. A cigarette that wasn’t there before was now sticking out between her lips, the gentle swirl of white smoke a familiar friend.

Gintoki sat down at the bar, eyes turned towards the doors. A soggy-looking Hijikata stepped into the bar, looking a little more than embarrassed. He closed the doors behind him quietly, and Gintoki spotted the uncomfortable grimace on his face as Hijikata noticed the mess that he brought in with him. He couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips as he watched the Vice Commander’s ears redden into the colour of cherries – it was unusual to see the typically stern-looking man looking so bashful. What was that nickname they had for him at the Shinsengumi? Something about a demon-faced commander?

‘Welcome, Hijikata-san. Didn’t expect to see you here.’ Otose-san called. ‘Come, have a seat. I’ll get something warm for you.’

Gintoki crossed his legs, eyes still watching the other man’s features with a sort of amused demeanour. He ignored Otose-san’s dirty look and reached over the counter to grab a cup for himself.

‘…Thanks for having me.’ Hijikata said in a small voice. Gintoki patted the seat at the bar beside him, and then proceeded to pour two cups of warm sake. The scent of sweet plums surrounded him now, a welcome warmth that was a stark contrast to the cold of the outside.

‘Gintoki…’ Otose-san murmured, a warning in her voice.

‘Yeah, yeah, I got it.’ Gintoki looked at Hijikata pointedly, eyes telling him to sit down. Hijikata took an involuntary step back, aware of the scrutiny present there. Gintoki scratched the back of his head and sighed, ‘Sit down first, won’t you? I’ll get you a change of clothes before I get glared at to death by this old woman here. Ah, save some alcohol for me too.’

‘…Thanks.’ Hijikata nodded apologetically at Otose-san. ‘Sorry for the trouble. I’ll leave soon enough.’

‘You’re not going anywhere soon in this rain, Vice Commander. Umbrellas are useless against this torrent. Stay – at least until the rain stops, hm? I might not be as attractive as the other women you see out in Kabukicho, but I can hold a decent conversation, at least.’ Otose-san said, the small smile she had on accentuating the crow’s feet by her eyes, the smile lines on her cheeks that only deepened with time. Hijikata relaxed slightly, his embarrassment now replaced with a sense of awkwardness.

 _What the hell am I doing here,_ he chided himself. _Wondered out of my bedroom to end up in Kabukicho, where I got picked up like a drenched rat, no less._

Otose-san held out a cup of warm sake. ‘Come, sit.’

Hijikata couldn’t find any excuse to reject it – he was starting to shiver, and going out into the rain again to head back to his quarters seemed like a bad idea. He was already extremely sleep-deprived, and getting a cold on top of that… he wouldn’t be able to recover fast enough to sort out matters in the Shinsengumi, considering the events that transpired over the past week. A bone-deep tiredness, a humdrum of an aching, started to make itself known in his body – he hoped that he wasn’t going to collapse here anytime soon. That would cause more trouble, and Hijikata felt he was already knee-deep in some kind of social debt.

Soon enough, Gintoki was back in the snack bar, a spare kimono in hand. He threw it at Hijikata, who caught it deftly with both hands.

‘Put this on. Don’t worry, that one’s washed already.’ Gintoki said, now heading to the back of the counter to help with the washing up. Otose-san was wiping the tables, nodding at Gintoki to get started already. Hijikata pulled the white kimono over himself, still aware of how terrible – and vulnerable – he looked. The scent of sweet red beans and laundry soap still lingered on the material, and Hijikata wrapped it around himself tightly, feeling a little more than grateful that it helped keep the chill away slightly. The kimono was also surprisingly large, and he never took Yorozuya to be that much bigger than him in size – Hijikata caught Gintoki glancing at him with a knowing look on his face. He felt his ears become warm at the attention. _Damn bastard can guess what I’m thinking._

‘What are you looking at, bastard?’ Hijikata glared back.

‘Nothing.’ Gintoki said, turning away now.

He sipped his cup of sake slowly, waiting for the alcohol to kick in to warm him up. The slightly awkward quiet was punctuated by the soft rush of running tap water, the occasional clink of drinkware against one another. Hijikata could make out the smell of dishsoap, somewhat nice yet somewhat stinging, drifting through the still air. The persistent scent of Otose-san’s cigarettes lingering on clothing. The dampness of his sleeves, making his clothes cling onto his skin with a certain fervour.

At least this was better than having to feel those invisible shackles closing in on him.

Hijikata poured another cup for himself and drank silently, eyes taking in the surroundings slowly, deliberately. The alcohol was already doing its work, a dull sensation of warmth starting to emerge inside. He never really realised how cosy the snack bar was – he was always here on some business or other. Hijikata then turned his attention, and noticed how Otose-san would mumble a curse at Gintoki, a friendly glint still evident in her eyes. Gintoki was constantly complaining and whining, yet his hands continued to swiftly clean up the mess on the counter. Whenever Hijikata reached for the sake bottle, Gintoki would glance at him for a split second, a sort of longing hanging in the droop of his eyelids – Hijikata pretended to ignore it, content with drinking in a silence that settled into almost being comfortable.

Gintoki finally let out a big sigh and settled in the chair beside Hijikata, wiping his damp hands on the front of his black shirt.

‘Why’re you sitting here?’ Hijikata asked, glaring at him. Half of the irritation in his voice might have been the alcohol talking – he’d almost gone through the whole bottle by himself.

Gintoki gave a similar glare in response. ‘It’d be weirder if I sat at the corner booth, wouldn’t it?’ He grabbed the second cup of alcohol he had poured out a while ago and downed it in one large gulp, a little annoyed that it had cold already – the scent of plums had long dissipated. ‘Now, if you would? Unless this is too lowly a task for the great Vice Commander to do.’ he said, holding out his empty cup and waving it.

‘Stop talking like a brat.’ Hijikata said, ignoring Gintoki’s empty cup.

‘You started it first, didn’t you?’

‘You did.’

‘No, _you_ did. I was the one who invited you in, so you owe me a favour now.’ Gintoki said, raising the tone of his voice marginally.

‘You should’ve just left me out there, then.’

‘Tsk, this is what Gin-san gets for being nice, is it? Should have left you out there to be struck by lightning, like the drenched piece of trash that you are.’

‘Who the hell is acting like a heap of trash now?’

Otose-san threw her dirty tablecloth at Gintoki’s head. ‘Will the two of you _behave_?’ She walked over to the counter and pulled out another bottle of alcohol, frowning heavily. Both men flinched as Otose-san slammed the bottle on the counter, and Gintoki thought he heard something crack. ‘It’s been a long night, and I don’t want to hear two grown men bickering like children in my bar. Either have a civilised conversation, or start drinking silently.’

Gintoki shot a sideways glance at Hijikata, giving him an accusatory stare. Hijikata clicked his tongue.

‘…Fine.’ both of them muttered. No one argued with the hostess who offered them alcohol in Kabukicho – especially Otose-san, despite her being a retired daeva.

‘Good. I’m going to count up our stocks in the back now – you two can finish that bottle, clean up, and leave.’ she said, making a shooing gesture with her hand.

‘Sorry for… the trouble.’ Hijikata said suddenly, feeling a tad more than embarrassed. _Damn it, the alcohol is making me think sideways._ ‘I… didn’t bring any money with me, but I’ll sure to pay for this as soon as possible.’

He heard Gintoki snort in response, a disbelieving grin plastered all over his face now.

Otose-san looked around at Hijikata for a moment, curiosity apparent in her eyes. She looked like she was about to ask a question directed at Hijikata, lips quivering with unspoken words. _What should I respond with when she asks? What’s the Vice Commander doing in the middle of the night, lingering in the rain, penniless?_ The thought sounded stupidly ludicrous in his head. A moment passed between bar owner and policeman, then Otose-san shook her head and waved her hand again.

‘Pay me back whenever. I’m sure you’d be quicker than the curly hair beside you when it comes to paying debts.’ she said before disappearing into the store room door beside the alcohol cabinet.

‘Tsk.’ Gintoki clicked his tongue. ‘She makes it seem as if I never pay my rent.’

‘I’m guessing you never pay on time.’ Hijikata said after a short sip of his drink.

‘What am I supposed to do? The economy doesn’t exactly treat us in the odd jobs business well…’ he mumbled feebly.

‘Make your excuses elsewhere, cheapo. Shouldn’t you go help her out?’

Gintoki looked confused. ‘Hah?’

‘She’s going to count all the stocks, isn’t she? Wouldn’t that take all night, considering she’s doing it alone?’

Gintoki snorted. ‘She’s been doing this for years – pretty sure she can count without any trouble. Probably will take an hour, at most. Last time I tried to help, she gave me a beating because I kept messing up after counting past two hundred.’ He caught the apprehensive look on Hijikata’s face and glared hard in response. ‘You try sorting and counting out each individual brand of alcohol she has back there next time. The old woman had about half a thousand different bottles stashed inside, despite how this place looks – and she is more than capable of managing it herself.’

‘Huh, I wouldn’t have guessed.’

Gintoki crossed his arms together, mollified now.

‘Would never have known that the legendary Shiroyasha can’t count past two hundred. How’d you sort the troops back in the day?’ Hijikata added, a sly smirk appearing on his lips. He then let out a long chuckle, amused by the prospect of the former warrior struggling to count, staring at his fingers confusedly. ‘Ah, that’s hilarious. Somehow makes up for the shitty night I was going through.’

‘Hm?’ Gintoki cocked an eyebrow, curiosity fully piqued now. ‘Oh?’

_Shit, why did I say that out loud? Is the alcohol loosening my tongue?_

Hijikata sighed, ‘Forget I said that. It’s nothing.’

Gintoki kicked at his legs, urging him on. ‘Try me. An idiot like me who can’t count won’t remember anything you say in the morning anyway.’

‘Just leave it.’

‘Hm, let me make an educated guess: is it related to whatever was going on with the Shinsengumi last week?’

Hijikata looked up sharply, narrowing his eyes at the man beside him. Gintoki was smiling, somehow, yet there was a knowing look in his eyes. How did he find out that there was something happening within the Shinsengumi ranks? How much did he know?

‘…What do you mean?’ Hijikata replied softly, carefully. Gintoki glanced at the man’s fingers clenching around his cup, fingernails turning white from the pressure.

‘I’m not _that_ much of the idiot you think I am.’ Gintoki leaned slightly forward, head now balancing on the palm of one hand. ‘Naoya-san, was it? Pretty energetic fellow, from what I can remember.’

Hijikata couldn’t help the shock that appeared instantaneously. Gintoki took in his widened eyes and gaping mouth for a split second before the Vice Commander managed to school his features into a neutral expression again. His hands were still gripping his cup tightly to the point where Gintoki could see the contents trembling inside.

‘Where did you hear that… no, how do you know that person?’ Hijikata said, his gaze intently focused on Gintoki’s now. He downed his cup in one go and immediately reached over to pour another one. Gintoki stopped him mid-action, aware of Hijikata’s cold fingers – he doubted that it was from his lingering in the rain this time. He deftly refilled the two cups and clinked them together, the light _tink_ a hollow echo in Hijikata’s ears.

Gintoki took a small sip, contemplating what he was going to say next. This time the sake had a mild warmth to it, the sweetness of plums a pleasant blossom on his tongue. ‘Met him once a long time ago. I caught him again in Kabukicho a couple of weeks ago – I remembered him once I noticed his hair and that scar he has. Pretty distinctive guy.’

‘…What else?’ Hijikata prodded, trying to tamp down the roiling mass of emotions that were rising up from his chest and into his throat. He could see that Gintoki was holding something back, and that made him feel even more worried. There was a clinking of glass from somewhere behind the bar, a distinct punctuation against the tenseness that crackled in the air between the two men.

Gintoki avoided Hijikata’s pinning gaze and glanced into his cup instead, trying to organise his thoughts as the clear liquid inside swirled. He suddenly noticed that the pattering sound of rainfall had abated, lighter than it was ten minutes ago – he couldn’t help but place a hand cautiously on his abdomen, the sound of soft crinkled pages a melody he was all too familiar with.

Hijikata noticed the motion, but didn’t comment on it.

‘Well, he invited me for drinks to catch up, but I politely declined and went on my way.’ Gintoki started slowly, fingers gently swirling the cup with his fingers. ‘I didn’t think anything of it, until he showed up again at the Yorozuya a couple days later. Had a job for me, he said.’

‘And?’

‘He only briefly told me what the job was about. Something about recruiting a former… warrior to join him and help him out. I didn’t accept it, obviously – it sounded like stupid, shady business, and I’ve had my fair share of stupid, shady business already. Escorted him out and his last words to me were that I was going to regret not involving myself in his group. That’s all I know, Vice Commander-san.’

‘…How do you know that it’s related to the Shinsengumi?’

‘Like I said… I’m not that much of an idiot.’ Gintoki rolled his eyes. ‘It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s part of some anti-government faction. And you’re bound to be involved in such matters, aren’t you? Ah, well, I guess Okita-kun did mention some trouble popping up in the Shinsengumi last week, too.’

Hijikata cursed. _That sadistic idiot… what’s he doing telling outsiders about what’s happening within the Shinsengumi?_

‘I see.’ Hijikata replied simply. His hold on his drink loosened.

‘Don’t just say ‘I see’. I told you my bit of story – don’t you think you should repay me for the information?’

‘You’ve told me nothing of use, besides for the fact that you’re a nosy bastard.’

Gintoki kicked at Hijikata’s knee with an angry grunt.

‘What the – ‘

‘Stop being such an irritating partner, will you? We’re having a drink together now, so might as well make some conversation while we’re at it.’

‘I refuse.’

‘So I’m guessing this Naoya-san stirred up some trouble in the Shinsengumi, which is why I found the Vice Commander staring blankly into the sky in the middle of the night… and he’s the reason why you said you’re having a shitty night. Were those your exact words?’

Hijikata refilled his cup, a grimace now evident on his face. ‘Leave it alone.’ He glanced at the silver-haired individual beside him and frowned as his vision blurred slightly. ‘It has nothing to do with you, so stop sniffing around. Tell Otose-san that I’m grateful for her help – I’m leaving since the rain seems to have let up.’

Gintoki rolled his eyes again as he watched Hijikata down his drink and get up quickly from the bar stool, one half of the borrowed kimono now a white drape off his shoulder. His ears were still red, but some of it had extended towards his cheeks due to the alcohol, and Gintoki thought the flush was a different albeit pleasant look on his usually pale skin.

‘How boring.’ Gintoki commented drily. ‘I – whoa!’

He jumped out of his seat, the chair falling with a loud crack against the hard floor. His half-full cup rolled onto its side as it toppled over, drink spilling all over the counter. Gintoki swiftly ran towards Hijikata’s figure, which was leaning heavily sideways – he managed to grab onto an arm and pulled it back with all his strength, letting Hijikata fall onto him as he landed on the floor on his behind.

_That was dangerous,_ Gintoki thought, breathing heavily as a bout of adrenaline rushed into his limbs. Hijikata was leaning on him fully now, his body a distinct heat against Gintoki’s skin.

‘Wait…’ Gintoki murmured, gently putting a hand on Hijikata’s forehead. He noticed that the Vice Commander wasn’t fully conscious, lips puckered and muttering indistinguishable words. His cheeks and tip of his nose were fully red now, the flush more prominent than it was ten seconds ago. The back of Gintoki’s hand burned, and he clicked his tongue. ‘Stupid policeman stood in the rain for too long, I bet. Argh, what a pain.’

Gintoki heard the hurried sound of footsteps from behind. Otose-san rounded the counter and took an involuntary step back, unsure of the scene before her. She quickly moved over to put Gintoki’s chair upright again. ‘What the hell happened while I was back there? Did the both of you get into a fight?’

‘Obviously not. Hijikata-kun here has a raging fever, and I think the alcohol just made it worse.’ Gintoki said, grunting as he tried to pull Hijikata upright and onto his shoulder. ‘How much mayonnaise does this guy eat? I feel like I’m carrying a boulder here.’

Otose-san went around to the front and inspected Hijikata, worry etched across her features. She noticed how he was breathing heavily, eyebrows furrowed in a tight knot. ‘He’s in bad shape – Gintoki, do you have medicine at home? I forgot to replenish our medicine box here after Catherine caught a cold the other day.’

He sighed loudly. ‘I guess that means I have to drag him upstairs.’

‘Just leave him in the corner booth here. I’ll look after him while you go get some medicine.’

‘Nah. You’d better close up and go home to get some sleep, old woman. You’ve had a busy night. I’ll manage somehow.’

‘Are you sure…?’

Gintoki expertly maneuvered Hijikata onto his back, grunting again as he grabbed onto Hijikata’s legs to give him a proper piggy-back. The effort made him wheeze a little bit – it was also extremely uncomfortable, as Hijikata’s clothes were still slightly damp and stuck to Gintoki’s skin. _Should have brought a whole set of clothes for him to change into. Wait. Eh? Am I at fault here? Me, the considerate Gin-san that invited the Demon Vice Commander for a warms sip of sake? I don’t think so, right…?_

‘Yeah, yeah.’ he waved, voice quivering as his thoughts ran a thousand miles. ‘Thanks for the alcohol. Night.’ Gintoki pushed the door open with his left foot and looked upwards, groaning as he realised that the rain was still pretty heavy. The patter of heavy raindrops was a clear noise as the shops along the street had darkened storefronts, an assortment of drunkards and bar employees alike weaving their way towards home. The glow of Otose-san’s snack bar was a stark contrast compared to the other establishments nearby.

He took in a deep breath. _Don’t think about the past. Now isn’t the time to be a coward._

Gintoki looked around, the sound of an umbrella popping open drawing his attention.

‘At least let me hold an umbrella for the both of you, otherwise you’d get sick too.’ Otose-san said, standing close to Gintoki. Gintoki nodded in thanks and the both of them walked out and around the building, a barely conscious Hijikata Toshiro a solid weight against Gintoki’s back.


	3. Interlude - It's Better Not To Go Through A Bush That's Called Thorny Toshi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short look into Hijikata's past - and a person that insisted to get involved with him.

Hijikata blinked profusely, the sunlight painful in his eyes. He grunted as he tried to move his limbs, bit back a scream as the gash in his arm started to throb with pain. He finally managed to get both eyes open as his breath came in heavy rushes - in and out, in and out, painfully in and painfully out. There was a shrill sort of sound that escaped his throat as his chest rose and fell, a whiny wheeze that didn't sound like him.

Where was he? The sky above was a sheet of orange fading into yellows fading into blues, barely a sky in the distance. Last he remembered, he had jumped down a bridge and into a thicket, branches dragging at his sleeves, feet pounding from the impact. How did he end up here?

The pain in his arm intensified, a sharp throb that made him bite on his bottom lip, his eyes tearing. _What an unseemly display_ , he thought miserably. After a couple minutes of getting used to the pain that lanced up his bicep and into his shoulder, Hijikata tried to sit up.

He immediately regretted it - another wave of pain coursed through his entire body, starting from his stomach now. Did he break a rib when he jumped down that bridge? The sheathe of his sword was an additional weight at his waist, a grown man's weapon that should not belong on the body of a young boy. In the face of his current predicament, it felt heavier than ever. There was an unmistakable scent of blood that lingered on his body, his clothing, the sword that was sometimes a little too precarious to hold.

Hijikata finally managed to sit upright on the ground, heard the sound of coursing water nearby. He looked left and right, suddenly recalling the bastards that had forced him off the bridge this afternoon. If he encountered more of them, if they were still looking for him at this point...

He doubted it - they couldn't possibly still be out here looking for him, right?

'Heh. Heh heh heh.' Hijikata couldn't stop the childish, defeated chuckle that escaped his lips at the thought. He should have considered himself lucky, escaping with a slash in his arm, one or two broken ribs.

He shook his head, tried to clear his mind. Hijikata instantly regretted it, a dizzying vertigo taking over. He had to squeeze his eyes shut again, make his thoughts pause for a moment, his fingers involuntarily scraping at the hard ground underneath - the momentary stillness was broken by the rustling of leaves, the slow drip of blood that ran down his arm, the gurgle of an almost-river that ran nearby him.

By the time the dizzy spell had faded, the sky had darkened a considerable amount from when he last laid eyes on it. The tang of his own blood was an unpleasant one, albeit familiar. He glared at the bleeding part of his left arm, wishing that it would just disappear.

Another snort, a light chuckle. The metallic scent of blood intensified, as with the laughter that gurgled out of his throat. _I'm going delirious,_ he thought darkly, the sound of his laughing a painful echo in his chest. _As if glaring at the wounds would cure them. As if force of will would change anything. Get a grip, Toshi._

He took in a slow, steadying breath. Flashes of the boys who had come after him with a vengeance appeared in his mind's eye. He remembered the snarky smiles they had on as they approached, the triumphant look in their eyes as they cornered him near the bridge, the widening smirks as one of them - the one with his hair tied up - swung at him and drew blood. He thought of the look in their faces as he backed up, one leg over the side of the bridge. The one that wounded him growled, flailing his gleaming wakizashi at Hijikata's stomach. With a tired sigh, Hijikata turned around and jumped.

His bones rattled. His limbs trembled. His breath caught in his chest as he heard something inside him _crack_.

But he was still breathing, wasn't he? He was still alive.

Hijikata let out a shaky breath, tried to get up. The glint of the small, almost-river was several hundred meters away, the sound pleasant to his ears. _Why didn't I fight back? Why didn't I cut at the one who caused this wound?_

Maybe it was the way they called his name. Snide, condescending, disgusted.

_"Hijikata Toshiro, the deranged child. The mad boy." Low chuckles, a collective wave that seeped into Hijikata's ears and turned his insides cold. They kept repeating that line. On and on and on and on. Hijikata could only run._

He shifted his weight from left to right tenderly, trying to see if he could get up on both feet this time. Beads of sweat lingered on his forehead, glistening silver and blue and a deep red and they ran down the sides of his temples.

"Damn it.' Hijikata hissed as he slowly got up. One knee against the ground, both hands pushing in a deliberately slow motion. Both legs were shaking, but he was standing upright now. A long grunt escaped as he doubled over periodically, wincing at the pain in his abdomen.

The seemingly short walk to the water felt entirely too long. By the time Hijikata's feet touched the stream of water, he was out of breath. He couldn't help but fall onto the ground again, bits of dust rising as he hit the dirt.

The water was body temperature when he touched it, which was oddly uncomfortable. This almost-river ran through the village centre, a trough that was dug up by a bunch of people in the past that connected one river to another. Someone once told him that this almost-river would eventually lead to the sea, but his brother had laughed when Hijikata asked if he could walk along the water to visit the seaside. Hijikata recalled how his ears had turned red hot as his brother patted him gently on the head, explaining how the sea was thousands of leagues away from their home. Hijikata would have to walk more than a hundred thousand steps before he could get a whiff of the salty sea water - Tamegoro-nii chuckled as Hijikata stuck his chin out, a sulky expression on his face.

Hijikata reached both hands outwards and scooped some water out. Washed his face, gave his arm wound a quick rinse. It stung badly, but he didn't allow himself the luxury of wincing at the pain this time. The smell of blood subsided slightly, but it didn't leave. It never left, not since the day he left home.

Hijikata's eyes were drawn to reflection in the water as he submerged his arm - it was a Hijikata Toshiro that moved like him, blinked like him, sighed like him... yet the reflection didn't have the same thoughts as he did, right?

Hijikata eyed the figure in the water silently as it rippled and shifted, threads of himself wavering and unravelling with each crest and trough. He didn't recognise the person that he saw in the water, not really. His hair had grown much longer, and was held together with a bit of string. There were dark smears that left ugly streaks across his cheeks, dried bits of blood and carnage that would eventually fade with time. His brows were far too crowded together, a perpetual frown stuck between them - he tried relaxing his features, let his jaw unclench slightly. The furrows still remained, the terse grind of his jaws didn't slacken. Before, he might have been able to hide it well enough.

A drop of red fell into the water, silent but not unnoticed. He watched, unmoving, as it disappeared in an instant, the red dissolving and carried away by a current that never stopped.

He couldn't help it - everything hurt so badly, and he wanted to go home. The thought of home made him hurt more, but it wasn't a physical pain. It blinded him, coalescing into a fog in his mind that blocked out the wounds on his body.

He thought of the brief moments of peace he had at home, even though it was mostly when Tamegoro-nii was around - when Hijikata sat alone at the dining table, when he quietly entered his room as murderous whispered floated into his ear, when he clutched his straw training sword in the dark night... those were the times when the pain in his chest would swell. He had felt like an unwanted stain, a disgusting scent that lingered in the Hijikata household.

But when Tamegoro-nii was beside him, the pain inside would subside. Sometimes it would disappear completely, and that was when Hijikata could tell himself that he was happy. _Happy. A strange word for an unwanted boy._

Was he glad that he had left? Were the terrifying nights alone, out in the small alleys in the residential areas, worth it?

_I'm scared. I want to stop being scared._

The reflection in the water was crying, lips trembling in an unmistakable cry for help. Hijikata looked back at it, mind blanking out, fingers digging painfully into the hard dirt, ears burning with an unspeakable rage. The Hijikata in the water had a terrible look on him - lips that quivered too much, dark eyes brimming with fear, little silvery teardrops running down his cheeks. Was it his real body that was sniffling? Were his fingers shaking, his breath trembling as he exhaled?

 _I thought I was done being a coward,_ he thought bitterly. Hijikata screamed at his reflection, chest exploding with an emotion that he could not describe. Not rage. Not helplessness. Not furor. Not fear. Something that was more than those words. Hijikata screamed and screamed, hands now clawing at the teary streaks on his face. They were signs of weakness, they were unnecessary, he _had_ to get them off him. It stung, it burned, it hurt so bad - but he kept on going, nails tugging on unhealed wounds, fingers tearing off scabs that were not ready to be ripped away.

Finally exhausted, Hijikata dunked his head in the river. The water felt a hint cooler than his body temperature, now that he thought about it. He felt the invisible currents caress his cheeks, bite at his freshly gouged wounds.

_What if I just stay like this? What if I just... kept my head underneath the water for a long time?_

He heard a scream from far away, almost inaudible as the water muffled the sounds around him. A trickle of air bubbles escaped Hijikata's lips.

'.....y.!' the words were unintelligible. Yet he found himself listening a little more earnestly - maybe this was his inner voice speaking to him.

'Help....' Was it a yell that sounded like a whisper? 'Please!'

Somebody was grabbing him, a pair of strong hands pulling him out of the water from the back of his collar. Hijikata coughed, gasped for air, blinked the water out of his eyes. _So it wasn't my reflection talking back to me, was it?_

'Are you alright?' A boy's voice, concerned and panicked. 'D-d-d-don't do this to yourself! If you've got any problems, just talk it out with your friends and family... I'm here for you too. So, just, ah... don't d-d-d-drown, okay?'

Hijikata growled and pushed the hands that were still tugging on his clothes away. He shook his head, water droplets scattering in every direction.

'What the hell is wrong with you?' Hijikata hissed. A boy that didn't look much older than him was crouched down at eye level - Hijikata couldn't help but be drawn to the shock of orange hair on the boy's head.

The boy was breathing hard, eyes wide open. 'N-n-nothing's wrong with me.' he said softly. 'I just... I just saw someone drowning themselves in the river, and I didn't want that to happen. I don't want you to... d-d-d- _die_.'

'I-I wasn't trying to die.' Hijikata bit back. Something inside him turned sour as he uttered those words. 'I just wanted to clear my mind.'

'But I saw you-! I saw you from far away! And your head was down there for so so long... I-I-I-I couldn't help it. I called to you and you didn't answer, so I r-r-ran. Just... don't give up on your life, okay?'

‘I told you-‘

‘Don’t do it!’ the boy’s voice had turned shrill. He started coughing profusely, wheezing as he glanced at Hijikata worriedly. He pointed at Hijikata’s wounded arm. ‘I can help you with that – and you can talk about anything with me! I live right behind that patch of trees there. My father used to be a doctor, you see…’

_What is going on here?_

Hijikata slumped down, suddenly feeling very tired. Maybe it was from blood loss. Maybe it was from the fatigue that he'd accumulated since leaving home. Maybe it was the fear that never left him.

'H-h-hey? You don't look... too... good...' the boy reached out as Hijikata squinted, the scene before him turning into a hazy blur. His words were slurred, and Hijikata thought he wanted to say something - but nothing came out of his mouth.

Hijikata felt his entire body fall sideways, the hilt of his sword digging into his chest, the cool trickle of water tickling his nose, the sound panicked yelling from a boy with orange hair a muffled voice in his ears.

He felt an empty coldness seep through his fingers, and then he was shrouded in darkness and nothing.


End file.
